A Pragmatic Wish
by skandrae
Summary: Four years into their journey, Captain Janeway discovers that, sometimes, the wishes of those people under her command are less complicated than she imagined.


Disclaimer:  Star Trek and all its incarnations belong to Paramount.  I've just borrowed them for a moment.

Mild spoilers for the fifth season episode "Night"

This story has been entered in Astrogirl's Birthday Bash Contest.  It's my first contest, my first Trek fic, and feedback is always lovely.

A Pragmatic Wish 

The Mess Hall was uncharacteristically quiet when Captain Janeway entered, forty-five minutes before Gamma shift.  Commander Chakotay followed closely behind, burdened with a number of PADDs.  Their voices were raised in cheerful debate, familiar music to Neelix's ears.  The Captain resented the Commander treating her as if she was a child who didn't know when to eat; the Commander insisted it was part of his job.  In four years, Neelix had heard the argument played out again and again.  It would end, he knew, with the Captain grudgingly eating a plate of food, and then attacking the stack of PADDs as soon as the Commander's eyes were turned.  

He was already putting trays together when they approached his counter.  He waved them away, preferring to serve them by hand.  They took their customary table, still arguing, and settled in to wait.  Neelix carried their trays over and uncovered them with his usual flurry of showmanship.  Kathryn relaxed once she recognized the mug in the corner as being full of coffee: nothing else really mattered.  

Neelix took a few minutes to regale them with the Mess Hall 'Gossip of the Day', to which Chakotay offered Neelix the Bridge's 'Rumour du Jour'.  Kathryn was chuckling at her first officer's stunning imitation of Ensign Kim trying to explain his sensor readings, when the Mess door whisked open.  

The corners of Neelix's eyes crinkled merrily when he looked towards the door.  "If you'll excuse me, Captain, Commander," he said, already moving away from their table.  The command team followed his progress, curious.  "Crewman Nystrom," he called out.  "Just the person I was hoping to see!"  The object of Neelix's interest was a young woman in Science blue who carried a large basket of vegetables.  She returned his greeting with a smile.

"Where would you like me to put these, Neelix?" she said.  "I warn you, these are just the first crop.  There will be a whole lot more in the next week."  In the nearly empty room, her soft voice echoed like a melody.  Something about her voice tickled Kathryn's memory, and she struggled vainly to remember.

"On the counter, please, Crewman.  I've been making space."  The Talaxian ducked behind the counter.  The clanging of metal on metal followed.  Nystrom carefully placed the basket on the counter, and lifted out one of the vegetables.  The light caught on her rank bar, flashing like a jewel.

"They're like Terran potatoes," she said, pitching her voice enough to be heard over Neelix's noisemaking.  "According to the samples we've taken, they're a little bit sweeter, but otherwise identical."

"The Lieutenant was telling me earlier that you've been working some kind of magic down in Aeroponics," Neelix said, smiling up at her.  "Are there sorcerers in the Nystrom family tree?"  She laughed, a husky sound that seemed to fill the room with good cheer.  

It was the laughter that triggered Kathryn's memory.  Many of her late night ship-walks had taken her through Aeroponics, both in its original home and its new one.  Before Kes' departure, she had often seen Kes and Nystrom among the greenery, discussing matters agricultural.  Once, Kes had said something the Captain couldn't hear, which made Nystrom laugh in much the same way.  

Kathryn glanced over at Chakotay.  His smile defied description.  She nudged him, and when he met her eyes she murmured, "Penny for them."

The smile deepened, changing into something more familiar.  "I was just thinking… You can put a farmer in space, but you can't turn her into an astronaut.  I hope the crew likes Delta Quadrant potatoes more than Leola Root."  She chuckled, and they both leaned back to watch the scene before them.

"Neelix, is it okay if I make myself a sandwich?  I promise not to make a mess," Nystrom said, peering over the counter.  Neelix had moved away and was reaching for something in the refrigeration unit, but he turned around quickly at her request.

"No, no, no, Crewman.  That won't do at all!"  Dismay was apparent in every whisker.  "You go have a seat, and I'll bring you something!"  Nystrom looked confused.

"Neelix," she said, "I've never made a mess in your kitchen that I haven't cleaned up.  If it's too much trouble, I'll just replicate something."  Kathryn couldn't be certain, as she could only see the young woman in profile, but she thought that Nystrom sounded hurt.  She knew Neelix was possessive of his workspace, but she was sure that she had seen other members of the crew whipping themselves up a late supper when he was occupied with something else.

If anything, Neelix looked more alarmed than before.  "Oh, no, Crewman!" he cried.  "It's not that!  You're welcome to make yourself at home in the kitchen at any time!  It's just that…well…I've already made you something."

"Really, it's okay, Neelix.  I have plenty of replicator rations left."  Nystrom had taken a step back from the counter, some of her earlier cheer dissipating.  Neelix reached over the counter and caught her hand.

"It was supposed to be a surprise, that's all," he said, smiling.  "Please, have a seat.  I'll bring it right out."  He nodded his head a couple of times, encouraging, and released her.  When he turned back to the refrigeration unit, Nystrom looked up at the ceiling for a moment, shook her head, and turned towards the tables.  

Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the command team; apparently, she hadn't realized to whom Neelix had been talking when she entered the Mess Hall.  Kathryn could see uncertainty flicker across her eyes for a moment, and then she stepped towards their table.

"Captain, Commander," she said, ducking her head slightly.  It wasn't until she was standing beside the table that Kathryn realized just how _big_ Nystrom was.  She wasn't quite as tall as Tom Paris, but she came close, and she was quite sturdy.  Her brown hair was caught back in a complex coil of braids, which gave her a regal air.

"Crewman," Kathryn replied, smiling.  "At ease."  Since their emergence from the starless Void several weeks ago, she had been making an effort to connect with the crew.  In some ways, it was harder to do with the junior members of the crew.  The closeness of the senior staff made it easier, somehow, to bridge the gaps she had wilfully created.  It was hard to restore trust between herself and those members of the crew she saw rarely.  All they had to go on were the rumours that ran rampant on Voyager, which seemed to undergo mutations as they migrated from the upper decks to the lower.  

Chakotay had joked about it, declaring that by the time a rumour made it to Deck Fifteen, it bore absolutely no resemblance to the rumour that started on the Bridge.

He, of course, had no problem striking up a conversation.  "So, Calari, is Neelix correct in assuming the Nystroms have witchcraft in their blood?"  Nystrom laughed, and Kathryn felt a momentary twinge of bitterness.  _Chakotay_ never seemed to forget anyone's first name, even among the junior staff.  Of course, it didn't hurt that Nystrom had been one of the Maquis under his command.

"I can't speak for all the Nystroms, Commander, but my father used to say I had green hands.  Much more useful for farming than mere green thumbs," she said, a wry grin chasing its way across her face.  "If you're asking me if I perform arcane rituals in the wee hours of the night to ensure good crops, the answer would be _'no'_.  The Lieutenant made his stance on that clear."  

Her posture changed, became more rigid.  "_'Crewman Nystrom,'_ says he, _'Aeroponics is no place for the dark arts of Magic!  There will be no rituals by candlelight on my watch!' _"  Her imitation of Lieutenant Spenser, supervisor of the Biology department, was perfect, and both Kathryn and Chakotay chuckled.

"Lieutenant Spenser's report did say that this particular vegetable has grown very well on board," Kathryn said, trying to call to mind the PADD she had read earlier.  "It didn't object to being uprooted?"

"Not at all, Captain," Nystrom responded.  Her eyes glittered with enthusiasm.  "It's been most obliging.  I hope the crew likes it.  If they don't…well, there's enough of it coming that it could replace the dreaded root at the top of their 'Things We Hate To Eat' list."  The clattering in the kitchen appeared to be dying down, and she cast a quick glance towards their cook.  She lowered her voice.  "Actually, I just hope Neelix likes it.  I'm hoping to convert him from Leola Root…for the good of shipboard morale."  She gave Chakotay a conspiratorial wink.  "But you didn't hear that from me, sir."

"Are you sitting down yet, Crewman?" Neelix called from the kitchen.  

"Almost, Neelix.  Captain, Commander, it was nice to see you."  Nystrom bowed slightly, and made her way towards a table by the window.  Neelix emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray in one hand.  As he passed Kathryn and Chakotay, they saw a covered dish, a tall glass of something fizzy, and a small pastry.  A short red candle was stuck in the centre of the tart, and its flame reflected off the silver cover and created shadows under the cutlery.

He placed the tray on the table in front of the startled crewman, and lifted the cover away from the plate with a flourish.  "Happy Birthday, Crewman Nystrom!" he said, his smile so wide that it seemed to stretch up into his hairline.  "As they say on Earth, many return happily!"  Nystrom lifted one hand to her mouth, obviously torn between laughing at Neelix's unintentional mangling of the traditional phrase and expressing some kind of shock.

In the end, shock won out.  "Oh, Neelix," she said.  "You didn't have to do this."  Kathryn couldn't read the young woman's expression, but she could hear something sad in Nystrom's voice.

"I know you don't celebrate your birthday, Crewman Nystrom…Calari," Neelix said, laying his hand over hers on the table.  "But I did some research, and I know that on your homeworld, twenty-five is an important birthday.  Just because you don't want to have a party, it doesn't mean that I'm not going to make you a special dinner.  Look," he said, pointing at the plate.  "I made you chicken and spicy noodles with peppers…I followed the recipe in your replicator exactly.  I didn't improvise at all.  And when I was making Talaxian apple tarts for the crew, there were just enough of the kava berries from Samaris, the ones that you liked so much, to make a special tart for you."  

Nystrom's eyes glistened wetly as she looked at the meal laid out before her.  She swallowed once, twice, and said, "Neelix, I think you just might be the sweetest person in the entire universe."  Pushing her chair back from the table, she rose and gave him a hug.  He patted her gently on the back.  "Thank you very much," she whispered over his shoulder.  He released her as soon as she started to pull back.

"You have to blow out your candle and make a wish," he said as she wiped at her eye with back of her hand.  "Naomi says that's the most important part about birthdays."  She nodded and sat down again.  She closed her eyes for a moment, brow wrinkling in thought, and, when she opened them, blew out the candle.  Neelix clapped his hands together.

"What did you wish for?" he asked.  She looked up at him, one eyebrow lifted.

"Surely Naomi also told you that if you tell your wish, you won't get it, didn't she?"  

"Well," he mumbled, "she did mention _something _like that…."  Nystrom laughed at his expression of disappointment.  Kathryn smiled.  Both she and Chakotay were trying not to appear to be listening, but they couldn't help themselves.  

"Well, since you did make me chicken and spicy noodles, _without_ improvising, I guess I can tell you.  You can't laugh, though."  She narrowed her eyes.  "Promise."

"You have my word of honour," he said, leaning closer and clasping a hand to his heart.  

"I wished that we would find a planet full of mineral rich soil, so that we could take away loads of dirt…so that my next project will be a success."  Neelix's face twitched slightly, but he did not laugh.  "I know, not much of a wish," she said, "but I would really like my next project to be a success.  And I need good soil for it to work."

Neelix, true to his word, kept a straight face.  "I think it's an excellent wish, Crewman Nystrom.  I hope it comes true."  Straightening up, he said, "I guess I'd better start preparing for dinner.  The people on Beta shift this week have all had incredible appetites.  I think tonight might a good night to try my newest recipe for Leola Root Stew."  As Neelix turned around, Nystrom looked over at the command team.  She shrugged, as if to say, _'Oh well'_.

They stayed in their seats a few minutes longer, watching her.  As the shift change approached, the Mess filled with people hoping to grab a quick snack before going on duty.  Nystrom was joined by a talkative blond, whom Chakotay identified as her former roommate, Crewman Dietrich.  He promised to relate the entire tale of their co-habitation difficulties to Kathryn at some point.  

As they made their way to the door, Kathryn said, "Why doesn't she celebrate her birthday, Chakotay?"  He glanced sideways at her, and then looked back over his shoulder at Nystrom.  She was laughing, the same husky sound that had echoed in the room earlier.  He said nothing until they were out in the hallway.

"I believe it's because the Cardassians attacked her homeworld the day she turned nineteen," he said softly.  "Like on Trebus…a firestorm that incinerated everything in its path."  He didn't elaborate; there was no need.  They had gone all the way to the turbolift before he spoke again.  

"She was one of the only survivors of the attack.  She was in a subterranean cave system.  Apparently, when she tried to get out, she found the exit blocked by fallen rocks.  It took her a week to dig herself out."  Kathryn stepped through the open doors of the lift, Chakotay's hand on the small of her back.  "And she fell right into the path of a Cardassian scouting party.  She spent six months as a captive before she managed to escape.  Bridge," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"I can see why she wouldn't like to remember that," she said, trying to imagine herself in young Calari Nystrom's place.  Trying to picture emerging from the depths of the earth to find her home destroyed, her people annihilated.  To be taken prisoner by the people who had orchestrated the massacre.  "Why did Neelix say her twenty-fifth birthday was so important?"

"On Sparra, her colony, they celebrated major dates in a person's life.  Birth, naturally, and then one every twenty-five years.  Her twenty-fifth birthday marks her as fully adult in the eyes of her people."  The lift halted; the doors opened onto the Bridge.

"I'd say she reached that point six years ago," Kathryn said, exiting the lift.  Chakotay said nothing, but she could feel his agreement.  On the Bridge, the shift changed seamlessly around them, like a well-rehearsed dance.  As they settled into their chairs, she looked into his dark eyes.

"Let's keep our eyes peeled for any planets with mineral rich soil," she murmured.  "I'd like to see Crewman Nystrom's wish come true."  

Chakotay's smile was all the answer she needed.

skandrae  November 2002


End file.
